


He’s not a Gangster, brobro! He’s a GangSTAR!

by yoursatanboyfriend



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Consensual Sex, Consensual Violence, F/M, Human Bill Cipher, Sexual Content, The Ninth Paradigm AU, dipper cameo but I tagged him anyway, everyone's an adult here, slightly violent sexual content since slapping and bruises are all violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 21:17:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7907941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoursatanboyfriend/pseuds/yoursatanboyfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He kisses her, and she grabs him by the collar, tells him she’ll kick his ass so hard, he’ll be coughing up kittens until next Thursday. </p><p>She does, and he loves it. He doesn’t cough up kittens, but damn, if he isn’t hard as hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He’s not a Gangster, brobro! He’s a GangSTAR!

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [He’s not a Gangster, brobro! He’s a GangSTAR!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11939661) by [AlR316](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlR316/pseuds/AlR316)



> Takes place in the same Gangster AU(The Ninth Paradigm) I’ve been using. Chronologically follows 'Say it isn’t so, Dipper'. Not particularly explicit. Just a vague drabble.

He spots a group of girls, 3, at most. Tourists- he can tell by the way they wander around, giggling and making a fuss over nothing. Easy targets.

One of them has long curly hair, and he’s never seen a girl grow it that long before. Thinks he knows a few guys who’d like to grab onto it roughly—he follows them.

She’s the cutest one, but the one with glasses isn’t too bad either. Asian, big demand. A biker rushes past the one with the long hair, her hair whizzing back and forth in chaos, she screams:

“WATCH IT, PAL! I’M WALKING HERE!!”

Shit, she’s a local?

Then the girl, the large one, says “Wow Mabel, you sounded like a real New Yorkian!” _New Yorker, you dumb bitch._

“Thanks, Grenda! I’ve been practicing!”

Mabel.

He continues to follow them, waiting until she’s alone. He gets her when she’s in an art supplies store.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” he says, charming her with a smile.

She shrieks—but not in fear.

“I’d love to take you ou—"

"YES. I’D LOVE TO GO OUT WITH YOU!!”

Well, that went well.

They become acquainted, exchanging numbers and he watches as she leaves the store, greeting her friends excitedly. He stays close to them for a short while, close enough to hear snippets of their conversation.

“What’s his name? Does he have a brother?”

“—HE’S SO CUTE!! And did you see how he was dressed?! A suit! The boys in New York wears suits! I’ve died, I’ve died and I’ve ascended to heaven--”

 He chuckles to himself; how naïve was this girl?

* * *

They meet up for something between dinner and a night time snack. He leads her outside, for alone time; has her up against the wall but she doesn’t seem to like it. She tells him being overly aggressive kills the romantic mood and that if he persists, she’ll have to ‘sock him’.

He says go ahead, shoving her back into the wall again.

She hits hard. He’s never met a girl with enough guts to actually follow through with threats.

He’s getting excited.

“I loved that.” He says, rubbing his jaw, never looking away from her. “You did, too, didn’t you?”

She takes a few moments to confess that she ‘liked a little more than waffles but since you couldn’t put syrup on it, waffles would have to be the winner’.

He tells her to shut up and hit him again. They kiss afterwards, she’s shaking, thrilled and in the heat of the moment, lets him put his hands down her pants to feel she’s wet.

* * *

She wasn’t interested in fucking. Last time he put his hand up her skirt, she kicked him in the crotch so hard, his lunch nearly surfaced to say hi.

She left the room immediately, and he thinks she’s lucky because he might’ve killed her.

He doesn’t like hearing ‘no’.

Next time, he’ll teach her just how much he doesn’t like it.

The next time they’re alone, before he can give her what’s coming to her—she hits him, pushes him down on the bed. He opens his mouth to speak and she quickly pinches him below the belt—he flinches, she went straight for his sensitive spot.

“I’m the one who’ll be giving the orders here. And not the kind of orders a waiter takes, or the guy at a drive through.” Her voice is aloof, enticing but her words are silly; she takes her shirt off and he thanks the gods who don’t exist that he could bear witness to this. Her body swallows him. She cums on him and finishes him off with her mouth.

“Spitters are quitters! And Mabel Pines isn’t a quitter!”

Once he finally stops laughing, he kisses her, tasting both himself and her.

* * *

“Are you like, a gangster?!”

“So you like that huh?”

“Yes or no, come on! Spill the beans! Grenda says you’re gangster but I as like ‘Whaaaaaat.’ So is it true?”

He confirms it and her already-big eyes grow, “Oh oh my god. I’m dating a gangster! Do you have a gun? Have you ever killed anyone? Do you get discounts at specific stores? _Can_ you get discounts at specific stores??”

He says he gets discounts if he brings his gun. She suggests he bring it next time they go shopping.

* * *

She spray-paints his gun gold, says “Now it looks like you have a solid gold gun!” She accidentally sprays herself in the face. He laughs, but then she sprays him too.

They spend the night getting paint off their faces and being reassured by a shady doctor they won’t go blind.

* * *

He has a few of his boys beat up a guy who looked at her wrong. She laughs and cheers them on.

* * *

He calls her his rocket queen, sings Guns ‘n Roses to her, says the queen is the strongest piece in chess(but she doesn’t like chess). He makes her prove it.

He has bruises across his neck, nail indentations in his back, lipstick marks on his inner thigh—surprisingly, she never uses her teeth.

* * *

He grabs both her cheeks with a hand and blows smoke into her face. She coughs and struggles against the grip. He laughs as he lets go and as he’s still laughing, she grabs his cigarette, takes a deep breath and blows smoke right back at him.

He stops laughing, opens his mouth and breathes in her second-hand smoke.

* * *

He holds her hands above her heads, says “Want tattoos? I’ll pay.” He leans close, for a kiss and she bites him hard- the red looks good on her lips.

He buys her red lipstick the next day, and she demands a leather jacket to match. He complies.

“Like my bad girl look? Don’t call me Mabel. Call me…MABEL.” She says her name with a lower, more strict voice. They both erupt in laughter.

* * *

 She’s developed the habit of ordering his men around. He shrugs, tells them to do whatever she wants.

* * *

He sucks on her breasts as she gets tattooed, makes sure to emphasize: “If you move too much, he’ll fuck your ink up. **Don’t move** , Mabel.”

He goes lower and lower, tongue flicking teasingly at her clit, vulva already wet with spit. She’s doing her best, and it’s enough- because her tattoos, shooting stars on both wrists, come out perfectly and the artist knows how to fix mistakes inconspicuously. He tells her she can add more colours to it later.

They spend the night together, and this time, he’s on top, fucking her. She’s surprisingly docile, thinks the restraint she endured earlier did a number on her. He kisses her neck, whispers into her ear—

he’s beginning to like her a lot. This might become a problem.

* * *

She’s unlike anyone he’s met. And

she’s leaving in two days. It’s good, he thinks. She’s been a distraction and he has work to do. He briefly considers kidnapping her, keeping her indefinitely—

But he doesn’t like responsibility.

* * *

She runs her fingers over his tattooed hands, comments on every design. She likes the triangle, with the eye, on the center of his palm. She thinks the small snakes, and ‘plants’ and ‘flowers’ on his hands are lovely. He doesn’t correct her.

They spray paint a wall in the middle of the night. He draws a shooting star, she draws a triangle with an eye in the center. He says it looks like she supports the Illuminati and she squeals “You’re part of the Illuminati?! You shoulda said something!”

* * *

She’s wearing red, and he jokes ‘Little red riding hood.’ He looms over, tells her the big bad wolf is here. She laughs mischievously and says “if anyone’s the wolf here, it’s me.”

She fucks him, takes his entire length in and says “See? Who’s eating who?”

“You’re all mine. Mine mine mine. Nom nom nom.” She nibbles playfully on his ear and he still has no idea what to make of her.

* * *

Their time together is over, and he sees her off at the bus stop. She tells him she wants him to meet her twin brother. (he thinks how good it would’ve been to have _both_ of them) The boy she runs to greet and pulls into an embrace—is the kid he’d drugged and fucked not too long ago.

What

were

the

odds?

No, really, what were they? He wants to know, mathematically—what were the chances of her being the twin brother of that kid he’d fucked over?

The kid sees him, knows it’s him and the look he gives is so utterly desolate and fearful—feels like he's being teased.

“Mabel…Mabel…” The kid, Dipper she said his name was, is terrified.  
He gives Dipper a slow up and down, with a smile that lets the kid know he’s thinking about all the _things they did together_.

He gives his girl long, deliberate kiss on the cheek, then another on her hands, and another on her Shooting Stars. “Arrivederci, Mabel, my shooting star. We’ll meet again? We’ll meet _again_.”

She grins, covering his face in kisses before joining her brother’s side. She waves at him one last time,

“Bye, cute gangster boy!”

He returns the wave, directing it to her brother too, and says “Ciao _, dolcezza._ “ He isn’t sure the boy hears him until the boy suddenly picks up his pace, dragging Mabel along. He says something to her, and she glances back, a look he’s never seen her make before—so the kid told her. What a shame.

Inevitable.

She’s trying to pull away from her brother to get to him, she’s hurt, confused but her brother is more determined and drags her, begging and pleading splattered all over his face. Because her brother knows what he’s capable of.

He gives a patronizing kiss and wave with two fingers, and leaves.

* * *

He still thinks about her sometimes, even 3 years later, when he takes the name Bill Cipher.


End file.
